


The Green House

by NovaeLuna



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 07:50:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4130191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovaeLuna/pseuds/NovaeLuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Even if you try to rewrite and paint over what's happened before, you're only exhausting the list of choices you could have made," the man with no face tells her in a dream. "After all, it's much better to give up thinking that you could've made a difference rather than to suffer because you never did."</p><p>No matter how many times she rips the plush out of his glowing head, nothing ever changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Green House

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this, for some reason??????? -^-)? http://just-shower-thoughts.tumblr.com/post/117128700104/every-time-you-paint-a-room-it-gets-very

"Try to keep your wit's end this time, my darling protégé. There are only oh-so many times you can doom a timeline when I know how many times you will and already have doomed us all. Soon, you will learn that no matter what you do, each and every time you doom yourself, you summon our atrocious Lord English in more favorable circumstances."

The Man in the Green House says this every single time she kills him.

Damara is nine sweeps old when she is one of two trolls remaining in her world. She is nine when the Condesce fails to kill her, when Lord English never forgives her for letting his main goal wither away like the rest of the troll race, and when there's no one left in the universe except for her and Lord English. The universe is empty, like it is supposed to be. Just like how the Man in the Green Suit told her.

Doomed to eternity with nothing but forever.

There is nothing left for her except for a green monster in a Green House and eternity. She'll never die, and he won't either, so she wastes the rest of eternity sitting by the throne of a man who is supposed to orchestrate the world's downfall.

The creature rages sometimes. She isn't sure where she knows the word from; the word slips crudely off her tongue, and she bites to reign it in. It's too reminiscent of a life she never knew, of one she knows isn't destined for her and was taken away from her and will be taken away from her because everything loops and loops and loops.

The Green House is her jail. The green in it burns her eyes. The Man. The Man burnt her eyes too. The walls are green like the words Damara doesn't know. The floors are green like the world she never knew. Her perception is green. But it is Damara's jail without a window, her world without a heaven, an awakening because the world she was sent to destroy was destroyed a long, long time ago. Damara does not know fuschia, does not know bronze, does not know indigo, does not know anything except for green, does not know these words.

Damara is green. Everything is green. Forever is tinted green, bleeding and seeping out because nothing can ever stop it, but it has nothing to drip onto. Eternity is splatters of green free-falling yet not falling because green is fluid, is liquid, is water, and becomes part of something without changing it.

Reality is green, and dreams are also green, so dreams mix with reality, the same green spreading throughout her mind. 

"Even if one tries to rewrite and paint over what's happened before, one only exhausts the list of choices one could have made," the Man in the Green Suit tells her in a dream. "After all, it is much better to give up, believing that one could have made a difference, rather than to suffer because one never did."

And in her dream, she rips his head that's a different green off of his Green Suit, watches as her own bleeding hands bleed a different green than the ones on the wall, and she wants to scream.

No matter how many times she rips the plush out of his glowing head, nothing ever changes.

Green, green, green, green. Damara knows there should be different greens,  _different_   _worlds_ , but she doesn't know the word to describe them. When she went and visited what the world could have been, it was all green. Oh, the greens were different; they were different, but she doesn't know the words to say how different they were, so she kills a girl who the Man in the Green Suit informs her is from the same blood caste she is and the only thing she can see is how their different green bloods look so alike. There is green on the walls, green on the floors, and everything is green but not really and Damara wonders if there are things other than green.

And the monster, the Green Monster, looks down at her, from the top of his never changing pedestal.

Damara wonders if everything's really worth it. If sitting around for the rest of eternity is really what she's supposed to do. If green is only thing she'll think for the rest of forever. It sickens her. She doesn't want this. She searches for a choice that isn't green, that won't ever be green and was never green, and she searches the nothingness of the universe for something not green.

She says the first words that don't feel green out loud.

"You. I want to make a deal."

The words are brash and rude and eternity-be-damned, but that's alright, because they aren't  _green_ , and that's what matters.

The Green Monster stares down at her. He calls her words that the Man in the Green Suit told her were derogatory, but Damara figures that derogatory remarks are small exchanges for the price of eternity.

"I will die for you. But."

Her words are choppy, because they aren't green and they're decidedly hers and this is her choice and she isn't green. Anything that isn't green is fine, fine by Damara's mind. The Monster sneers and makes some choice remarks, but Damara ignores them.

"Tell me. What is red."

And the Monster shows her by ending the timeline, by painting the green walls with her red blood, and her blood is red, red, red, and she was never green.

* * *

 

A strange man shows up and kills the Man in the Green Suit this time. Of course, Damara doesn't know of the other times.

The more you paint a room, the less space there is inside.

Damara paints the universe with all the colors of the world, bronze, teal, yellow, olive, violet, and paints her last room-

burgundy, clashing against, boiling furiously under-

fuschia.

**Author's Note:**

> and wow that sucked


End file.
